On Inner Gargoyles and Grotesques (Blog #966)

For the last two days, for whatever reason, I’ve been tired, tired, tired. Fortunately, my life is such that I can rest. That is to say, I’m not a mother. God bless y’all mothers. You never get to sleep. Hang in there, they’ll grow up one day. Then you can rest. Anyway, back to me. (My dad tells everyone, “Marc’s blog is about HIM,” and I’m like, “DAMN RIGHT, it’s called ME and My Therapist”). Okay, this morning I slept in and then, after breakfast, read a book about gargoyles and grotesques, those nasty looking, often highly sexualized creatures that decorate medieval churches. Now there are some guys and gals who don’t get to rest. According to the book, one of the purposes of grotesques (aside from being homages to local gods) is to scare away demons, and you know THAT’S a full-time job.

Speaking of full-time jobs, this afternoon I took a shower. I can’t tell you how much I hate the fact that a person has to do this multiple times a week in order to be socially accepted (except at Walmart, of course). But I digress. After cleaning up (and putting on my clothes) I taught a dance lesson then had a session with my chiropractor who works with emotions. Lately he’s been using a technique that involves tapping into however you feel NOW (frustrated, scared, embarrassed, vulnerable) then remembering the first time you ever felt that way. Then he says, “Picture that child and tell them, ‘Whatever you’re feeling is okay. There’s nothing wrong or inappropriate about your emotions.” I really like this, the idea that there’s no such thing as a bad emotion.

This evening when I got home from my chiropractor’s, I took nap. When I woke up I was still tired, but whatever, clearly my body wants to rest. This is something I’m learning to be okay with. I’m also learning that I don’t need to know WHY my body needs to rest, I just need to give it what’s it’s asking for. So often I get frustrated because I can’t decipher what my body’s messages mean, but–being tired–that one seems pretty obvious. Like, duh, go to bed. Anyway, after my nap I ate dinner and took out the trash, now here I am, writing.

Today’s post is #966 in a row, and that means post #1,000 is only 34 days away. (Incidentally, Christmas is also 34 days away. And no, I didn’t plan this.) Along these lines, I’ve been thinking about the eventual ending of this project (I plan to continue until March 30 or 31, 2020), how scary that is (because then what?), and what I’ve learned from it. And whereas I plan to go into these ideas more in depth over the next several months, the largest lesson I’ve learned has centered around the idea of meeting myself. (Like my dad says, this blog is about ME.) For example, earlier tonight I was frustrated (about being tired and, well, my life), but when I sat down to blog, it was like part of me relaxed because I knew that I could work through it. That’s what these 966 days have taught me, that no matter how I feel or what kind of day I’ve had, there’s a space within me that can hold it. THIS is a full-time job of course–taking care of ourselves and consciously working with whatever arises right here, right now–but it’s worth it, I’m convinced of that.

Another theory I’ve read about gargoyles and grotesques is that they represent one’s inner demons. So many people say that our job is to SLAY our dragons, but others say our job is to HUG them, to welcome them in. I like this idea and have found it to be true, at least more effective. Whenever I’ve tried to push an emotion or icky situation AWAY, it’s only gotten stronger. But when I’ve said, “Sweetheart, you have every right to be here. Talk to me,” it’s calmed down, relaxed. The book today referred to several of the gargoyles and grotesques as hideous, gross, or repulsive. But I kept thinking of that song “Everything Is Beautiful In Its Own Way” and how some of those little monsters were actually kind of cute. This is a matter of perspective, of course, and that’s my point. If there’s something you don’t like about yourself–or someone else for that matter–take another look. Chances are, it’s not as scary as you think.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some days, most days, are a mixed bag. We cry, we laugh, we quit, we start again. That's life. In the process, we find out we're stronger than we thought we were, and perhaps this is healing.

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The Stiller You Are (Blog #965)

A few quick things before my dad and I go to the gym and hopefully work off some of the tater-tot casserole we just ate. And yes, tater-tot casserole is a thing. Get thee behind me Satan.

I mean, get thee inside me.

1. On slowing down

Today I lay in bed reading a book I started–I don’t know–in May. I’ve had my nose poked in numerous other books lately (thank God I have a lot of bookmarks), but saw this book last night and got re-interested. Anyway, my original plan was to go to the library this afternoon, but after I started reading this book I decided to stay home. I thought, You don’t always have to be running around. So back to my bed, back to my book I went. What’s the lesson, kids?

Everything else can wait.

2. On silence

Yesterday while I was at the library watching videos, there was a moment when one video ended before the next one started and there was complete silence. Y’all, I nearly flipped out. It was–what’s the word?–unsettling. I guess in today’s world there’s always SOMETHING going on. In my world, there’s always something going IN–tater tots in my mouth, noise in my ears, knowledge in my head. Today I read so much–a hundred and fifty pages of small print–that my eyes started hurting. Y’all, I FINISHED my book, but I kept thinking I needed to read more, to finish ANOTHER BOOk. Now I’m sitting near my window and can hear the rain falling. THIS is what I need, this fundamental reconnection with the basic stillness of life.

3. On knowing thyself

Ever since I started therapy I’ve kept a list of things to talk to my therapist about. And whereas in the beginning I would jot down the list on a piece of paper (or a paint stick that my therapist and I started calling The Paint Stick of Truth) and later throw it away, for the last couple years I’ve kept the list on my computer. (Please don’t hack me; you might see your name.) And whereas I’ve been seeing my therapist for almost six years, we never run out of things to talk about. The list continues to grow.

Often during the last ten minutes of my therapy session I will begin to freak out, like, But there’s stuff on the list we haven’t talked about. This is, of course, the same anxiety I experience when I read only one book a day or look at my bank account–the anxiety of THERE’S NOT ENOUGH (time, information, money). But the truth is–there is. The truth is I’m constantly overwhelmed with time and attention from my therapist, just as I am overwhelmed with information. I’ve probably learned more this year than some of my ancestors learned in a decade. And whereas I’m not to the point I’m willing to say that I’ve been overwhelmed with money, I am willing to say that I’ve seen A LOT of it come and come. So maybe I am overwhelmed with money.

But I’m also overwhelmed with Amazon.

Getting back to my therapy list, I realized today that because I often prioritize my list, it’s become a perfect way for me to know not only WHAT mentally and emotionally drains me, but also HOW MUCH it drains me. Once my therapist said, “If someone or somethings is showing up on your list over and over again, that’s a good sign there’s something wrong.” Her solution? Boundaries, of course. My point being that even if you don’t see a therapist and make a list, it’s important to know what’s under your skin and who’s got your goat. You could even ask your friends, “Is there something I bitch about all the time? What do you think I can’t let go of?” And then stop bitching about it, let go of it. I realize it’s not “that easy,” of course, but I’m saying–start dealing with it. Not just for your benefit, but also for everyone else’s.

The stiller you are, the stiller we are.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We are surrounded by the light.

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On Acknowledging the Break (Blog #958)

For the last few months I’ve been teaching dance to a couple who are about to be married. Tonight was our final lesson before their big day. Y’all, I honestly couldn’t be prouder. These two have come a long way. Granted, they still bump into each others’ feet now and then, but they keep going, and that’s the point. What’s more, they’ve put in enough time and effort to be able to concentrate on one of the finer aspects of dancing–not just properly executing the steps and patterns, but also interpreting the steps and patterns in such a way as to match their particular song.

I’ll explain.

When learning to dance, the priorities are, in order of importance, 1) getting the steps right, 2) being on beat, 3) communicating with your partner (with your body, not your mouth), and 4) proper technique. Under the category of proper technique are things like whether the heel or ball of your foot hits the ground first, whether or not your hips are moving, and which direction your head is looking. These are often subtle things, of course, but they’re not only what distinguishes one dance from another (for example, a box step can be done in both waltz and rumba, but in waltz the forward step is with the heel, and in rumba it’s with the ball–plus, the rhythm is different, but I digress), but also what distinguishes the more experienced dancer from the amateur. That is, the more experienced dancer has good technique; the amateur has poor technique.

What my wedding couple and I discussed tonight was that both interwoven in and beyond these four categories is something called musicality. As I think of it, musicality is about not only being on beat, but also about being on THIS SONG’S beat and not THAT SONG’s beat. What I mean is that you can dance east coast swing–the same steps, the same patterns–to Van Morrison’s “Moondance” and Jerry Lee Lewis’s “Great Balls of Fire,” but if someone were watching you dance on video and turned off the sound, the two dances should look distinctly different because each song has a different MOOD.

Along these lines, musicality is first about matching the ATTITUDE of a song. Keeping to my previous example, since “Moondance” is soft and laid-back, your dancing should be easy going–not frantic–if you’re dancing to it. Since “Great Balls of Fire” is upbeat and wild, your dancing should be energized and punchy if you’re dancing to it. If you don’t match the attitude of a song, something will inevitably feel and look “off.” Taking this idea a step further, something will inevitable feel and look “off” if you don’t match or at least compliment the nuances within a song. For example, often a song will have what’s called a “break,” usually 8 counts of music where some if not all of the instruments drop out but the lyrics continue. Well, musicality dictates that when the music stops, so should you. At the very least, you should stop what you’ve been doing and do something different. I think of this as ACKNOWLEDGING THE BREAK. Is it fine to IGNORE THE BREAK? Sort of. Your dance will still work. But will it work as well, will it be as magical as it could be?

No.

This is what my couple and I dove into tonight, the idea that because their song has an ATTITUDE of tenderness, everything they do should be soft and gentle. Like, don’t make any sudden moves. Next we discussed the idea that just as their song (like any song) has sections that are more or less emphasized (read: energized), their dancing should likewise be more or less energized during those sections. More power, less power. “Step on the gas here,” I told them. “Chill out here. Pause. Take a breath before you go anywhere.” Y’all, you should have seen the results. By simply MATCHING their ATTITUDES and MOVEMENTS to those implied within their specific song, my couple went from having a “nice” dance to a “lovely” dance.

A magical dance.

This afternoon I saw my therapist, and we discussed this idea of TIMING. It came up because I told her I had several projects on the back burner and would like to talk about which one might be best to tackle next. “We can do that,” she said, “but I’m thinking just chill out until the end of year.” This is something she’s been suggesting for a while now and something I’ve blogged about a number of times–slowing down, resting. And whereas I’ve agreed with these concepts in theory, the largest part of me has continued to be attached to the idea of go, go, going. But working with this couple of mine has really driven home for me the importance of the pause. Whether in dancing or life, the pause is absolutely necessary. Not only does it give you time to breathe, it also adds emphasis, mystery, suspense.

It’s why these one-sentence paragraphs work so well.

Crap. Did I just give away a secret?

More and more I realize that just as each song has it’s own attitude and nuances, so does each season and so does each life. What’s more, we’re best served when we can TUNE IN TO and MATCH both nature’s rhythms and our own. For example, this summer I couldn’t find it within me to start a diet. The sun was up all day, and I was too busy, too frantic. But now that fall is here and even the sun is resting, I’ve found it easier to slow down and focus on taking better care of myself. Along these lines, I’m getting more and more okay with the idea that this period in my life is about chilling out and not go, go, going. It’s about learning. It’s about transforming. I told my therapist today, “It doesn’t feel like I should step on the gas right now.” It doesn’t feel like I should fill every minute with an activity, every blank space with more than it was meant to handle.

So I’m not.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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For all of the things life takes away, it gives so much more in return. Whether we realize it or not, there’s always grace available.

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On Resting and Experiencing Abundance (Blog #945)

After posting yesterday’s blog, last night I went two-stepping. Talk about fun. There was a live band and everything. Today Facebook reminded me with a video that I was at this same venue, for the first time ever, a year ago. And whereas due to my knee injury and subsequent surgery this last December my dancing last night wasn’t what it was back then, I was still there, moving. I think this is important to remember, that just because you slow down doesn’t mean you have to quit. Just because your body changes doesn’t mean you have to stop doing the things you love.

Recently I told my therapist that a theme for me lately has been slowing down, chilling the eff out. My therapist was all for this and reminded me of one of her favorite sayings–don’t just do something, sit there. “Inaction is as powerful as action,” she said. “There are times when we simply need to rest and let things synthesize.” Nature knows this. Currently it’s fall, and the trees are shedding their leaves. For months they will appear to do nothing. However, come spring, look out, boy, they’ll be filled with life.

Last week I mentioned that you really don’t know what’s happening in terms of healing whenever your body’s sleeping. Along these lines, just because you can’t see signs of growth in nature during the fall and winter, doesn’t mean growth isn’t happening, and just because you’re not consciously DOING something doesn’t mean your subconscious isn’t. This idea has been on my mind a lot lately, that there’s more we don’t know than there is we do. We pray to the heavens and ask for help and then get upset when we don’t see immediate answers. But hasn’t it been your experience that God works in mysterious ways? For all you know, your answer could be being lined up for you, halfway around the world for that matter. Again, just because you can’t see something (an answer) doesn’t mean it’s not there or in the works.

The gods like surprises.

This afternoon I went out with a friend of mine for a late lunch, and we talked about financial concerns, which we both have, and job security, which neither of us have. Last night at the dance I told another friend, “I’m really trying to settle into this idea of abundance, not in the sense that I have to be flush with cash in every moment, but rather in the sense that the universe hasn’t forgotten about me and will always provide.” Well, tonight my friend and I got up to pay the bill, and the new girl at the register couldn’t find our ticket in the system. I don’t know about my friend, but I was thinking, Come on, sister, get your act together. I have to pee. The next thing I knew, the manager was there, and get this shit. She said, “Your ticket isn’t in the system because it’s already been paid for.”

My friend and I couldn’t figure this out. Neither of us knew anyone else in the restaurant. And yet someone picked up our tab. Either that, or there was a glitch in the system. Either way, we agreed, the universe did us a solid. And whereas normally when the universe picks up my tab my first thought is–That’s awesome, but what about the rest of my bills?–tonight I was simply grateful. Whenever I get in a tizzy about money, my therapist asks me, “Do you have money in your pocket, even five dollars? Do you have a roof over your head and gas in your car?”

“Yes,” I always reply.

“Then you’re being provided for,” she says. “By the majority of the world’s standards, you’re rich.”

More and more, I’m encouraged to bring the idea of abundance home to today. Like, today I was able to slow down, to rest. Today I ate a delicious meal I didn’t pay for. Today I enjoyed the company of a dear friend, absent any disagreement or strife. Today I was safe, supported, and encouraged.

Yes, today I experienced abundance.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Freedom lies on the other side of everything you're afraid of.

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Something I’m Real Shitty at (Blog #931)

Last night I worked backstage at Beautiful: The Carole King Musical until 2:30 in the morning. Guess who didn’t feel beautiful by the time it was over? That’s right, this guy. And probably everyone else who was there too. Yesterday morning we started load-in at 7:45 and didn’t finish until 4:15. Well, what went up in over six hours (we had a lunch break) came down in four or five. You should have seen it. As soon as the show ended, everyone started moving, packing up props, stashing away hair, makeup, and costumes, and taking down lights, backdrops, and speakers (they seriously bring all their own stuff). Slowly but surely, everything that was taken off the four semi-trailers was put back on, except perhaps several pieces of gaffer tape still stuck to the stage floor.

By the time I got home, it was three in the morning. I promptly crashed. And whereas I woke up at ten, I went back to sleep until noon (just in time for breakfast). I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for over two weeks now, and I thought, My body could the rest. That being said, I haven’t exactly taken today easy. After breakfast I ran to Fort Smith for a quick meeting and what I thought would be a short handyman project. Alas, it turned into a long handyman project and ended up taking most the early evening, until I had a dance lesson. Granted, I slowed down after my lesson, but I also frittered away a lot of time scrolling through my phone, which means it’s now past eleven and I’m still up writing.

My writing late at night isn’t unusual, of course. But today I’ve been thinking about something my therapist said recently–“Marcus, you’re real shitty at listening to your body when it needs a break. You’re real good at doing plenty of things, but you’re real shitty at that.”

I didn’t disagree with her.

This conversation started because of my recent and longterm struggle with sinus infections. I told my therapist, “I have a lot of goals, writing and personal projects. Recently I started dieting and getting back to the gym, and then this crud happened. So I don’t know if I’m supposed to slow down or push myself.” Well, my therapist did NOT recommend pushing myself. “Your body IS talking to you,” she said.

“Well, I know that,” I said. “I just don’t like what’s it saying.”

“Like, take a nap?” she offered.

“Yeah, like that.”

I’m going to try to do better about this. Normally when I see a free moment or day on my horizon, I fill it up. Or allow it to be filled up. But after I get through the next couple of days, my schedule looks free, and I intend to keep it that way. I plan to lie around the house, watch television. In a word, rest. Even if this doesn’t heal me, it can only help me. Like most Americans, I’m hung up on being productive, but my therapist says some of the healthiest countries in the world are the least productive by our standards. “They work an average of four hours a day,” she says. “What do you think about that?”

This concept, of course, is tough for me to wrap my mind around. I know I don’t have a regular nine to five, but I’m so used to being busy, go-go-going even when my body doesn’t feel like it. Because I think I should. Because I think I have to. Because–quite honestly–I’m in the habit of doing so. But I am determined to (gently) slow down. I’m determined to listen to my body, even if means working less, even if it means lying in bed for a week, a month, or more. I’m convinced–like packing a semi-trailer, healing takes time. It can’t–and won’t–be rushed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s hard to say where a kindness begins or ends.

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